


Battle Ready

by CircularShades



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bugs & Insects, Grooming, Military, Other, Wing Grooming, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 16:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19794538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircularShades/pseuds/CircularShades
Summary: Dagon helps their lord prepare for Armageddon.Dagon let off a low, clicking noise, under a sigh of resigned obedience. To groom another demon's wings was to place oneself beneath them. But Dagonwasbeneath Lord Beelzebub. Almost everybody was.





	Battle Ready

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "wings" prompt in the 666 FicsFicsFics collection.
> 
> Dagon - they/them/theirs  
> Beelzebub - ze/zir/zirs

Dagon, Lord of the Files, Master of Madness, Under-Duke of the Seventh Torment, stalked the damp hallways of Hell's head office. Everywhere, lesser demons and tormented souls were starting to spoil for war, bragging about their weaponry, egging one another on, scuffling over pieces of armor. Dagon was prepared to let that last one slide, until one of the combatants stumbled back into their path and collided with them. Dagon grabbed the damned man by the scruff of his soiled shirt and pushed him away with a growl: " _Hey!_ Don't kill each other before Heaven gets the chance."

A second later they were stopped short again, as a loud voice cut through the air. Not from anyone nearby.

**_"Dagon. Report to my offizzze."_ **

Dagon did not answer, only turned to start down the right corridor. Their response would be their obedience.

* * *

Beelzebub was standing at a tarnished mirror, straightening zir jacket, when Dagon strode in with their report: "We are almost ready."

"Losing track of the boy hazz amounted to no more than a hiccup. Armageddon will finally begin. It _will_ be gloriouzz." Lord Beelzebub rolled zir shoulders and unfurled zir wings. Allowed both wings to stretch, and glanced over zir shoulder with a command: "We muzzt _all_ be in order."

Dagon let off a low, clicking noise, under a sigh of resigned obedience. To groom another demon's wings was to place oneself beneath them. But Dagon _was_ beneath Lord Beelzebub. Almost everybody was.

The feathers in Beelzebub's wings seemed to shudder and shift on their own. _Seemed_ to: stepping close, Dagon could see the clusters of flies, as black as the wings themselves, buzzing as they swarmed over and around the feathers. Dagon's claws parted the smaller, softer feathers near the back joint of a wing, picked delicately around the flies to find the loose feathers, the broken ones, those that needed straightening.

"Duke Hazztur?"

"He's still missing. Ever since him and Ligur went to collect Crowley.” The flies' buzzing pulsed louder in response to the name. A few of them climbed over Dagon's fingers as they worked. Little legs scuttled against their skin. Tiny wings made the air vibrate. Dagon suppressed a shudder and let their claws brush slowly through larger feathers, moving gradually upward toward the wing joint. Beelzebub extended the tip of zir wing outward, giving Dagon more room to work.

"He'll get his," Dagon hissed. The taste of vengeance was already on their tongue. "Once the war has kicked off."

"He'll be dealt with." Like it was a list item to be ticked off. 1 - Start the war. 2 - Destroy Crowley. "It'll be a race to see who could get the first dizz-corporation in."

The flies were sparser near the tip of the wing. They no longer clustered, but flew around the feathers in wide loops. One of them smacked into the side of Dagon's face, next to their eye. Dagon's fangs ground together. Nearly halfway done.

"How fares our Lord and Master, Satan?"

"He awaits our rise." Beelzebub flexed the wing Dagon had just finished, started folding it inward. The buzzing of the flies swelled and ebbed with contented approval. "And we will make the way for him."

"Hell on Earth." Not just vengeance against Crowley, now. Revenge against Heaven, for every demon destroyed for the crime of not being an angel. Dagon's mouth was watering. "It's about time."

When they were finished, and Beelzebub's wings folded back into a space just beyond visible reality, they faced one another again. Dagon's face shined with scales. Beelzebub's was broken by oozing boils. It meant something, to a demon, to wear ugliness like a badge. To delight in imperfection. When the angels saw them rising on blackened wings, they would know perfection for the brittle facade it was.

The medal that hung from Beelzebub's necktie was tarnished, too. It still gave off a harsh shine in the flourescent light.

"To our armiezz." Beelzebub strode toward the door with purpose, and Dagon followed.


End file.
